


You Make Me - The Perfect Version of Myself

by KatieComma



Series: Jack + Sam [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Came back for you kinda love, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Get Together, Jack doesn't think he's worth it, Loved you for a while, Romance, Sam comes back and fixes everything, Smut, and eventually (not in this fic) but eventually she's gonna call Mac on his shit, like Nasha wasn't just dropped for no reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 10:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: Sam shows up at Mac's doorstep - she came back for someone, just not the person anybody expected. Jack least of all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).

> I know this isn't a popular ship... from conversations I've had... and I haven't seen much of it around... but bear with me, I think I've done it justice.
> 
> The title is a loose rewording of lyrics from the song Indestructible by Matthew Good Band - because it was ALL I could think of while trying to name this fic...   
Specifically this part:  
I came back for you, the perfect version of myself...
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH to thatdragonchic for RANDOMLY mentioning that you thought Cage/Jack had more chemistry than Mac/Cage... and then CONVERTING ME WITH A SUPER CASUAL MENTION AND NOW I SHIP THEM SO HARD!!! So, this one's for you m'dear!!!
> 
> Self beta'ed - all mistakes are my own - that being said PLEASE feel free to point them out so I can fix them! :)

Sam stands nervously at the door. A door she’s looked at a hundred times before. A nice, slatted door with panes of frosted glass breaking up the wood. 

It’s late, and dark, and light is leaking through the glass out into the night. It makes her feel like an outsider, like she doesn’t belong, and she second guesses herself for a minute. 

And then she remembers why she’s come: for him. 

This isn’t about wanting to be welcomed back into the little family she abandoned, this is about one person that she can’t stop thinking about, not for an instant, no matter how much she’s tried. And that’s never happened to Samantha Cage before, even if that’s not her real name; that’s never happened to her in her whole life under any of her aliases.

People have been priority in her life, sure. As friends, as family, but never as something more. Never as an itch under her skin that she can’t scratch no matter how many times she half-dials their number like a twelve year old at a slumber party.

Sam takes a deep breath, and makes this decision like she does every other important decision: with a clear head and 100% confidence. She jabs the doorbell and waits, wringing her hands together. Even though she knows it’s the right decision for her, she has no control over _his_ emotions, his feelings. She has no control over what he’ll say in response, and that unknown is what makes her nervous. But she needs to do this, for herself, so she can move on in whichever direction is open to her.

She’ll roll with the punches. She always does. And she’s used to being punched.

Her fingers twitch to ring the bell again.

And then she hears Mac’s voice through the door. By the sound and directionality, he’s calling back into the house. She can’t make out what he’s saying.

The door swings open suddenly. He’d sounded further away. Mac is standing in the doorway, beer in hand, a shocked look on his face, eyes wide for only a moment before his eyebrows tilt upward in something like sympathy mixed with happiness and he smiles wide.

It makes her heart ache. She’d forgotten just how wonderful that smile is. Mac, always welcoming and loving to everyone, with open arms and heart. She almost tears up just to look at him. The golden boy with the sparkling blue eyes.

“Cage?” He asks. They both know it’s a stupid question, but someone had to break the tension.

She nods and smiles wide, still tangling her fingers together. “Hey Mac.”

He steps forward onto the front step and takes her into a hug, the cold beer pressing at her skin through her clothes and giving her goosebumps. She wraps her arms around him and settles her cheek to his shoulder. He’s warm and comforting, and she forgot how much she actually missed him. 

It’s easy to miss people when they’re a memory living on the other side of the world. It’s different to step into their arms, feel their love, and then try to push them to the back of your mind.

He smells just like she remembered: Ivory soap, fresh laundry, with an underlying note of oil and gunpowder. She smiles; he’s been toying with something explosive. Same old Mac.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, stepping back reluctantly. “Not that I’m complaining,” he stumbles, “I’m totally not. Were you in town? I'm mean obviously you're in town...”

Sam smiles. Same old Mac. Cool and calm in the field, and socially awkward at home.

“Something like that,” she says, not ready to give away her intentions just yet.

“Well, come in,” he steps aside. “You’re lucky, the whole gang’s here. They’ll be so happy to see you.”

“You sure about that?” She asks, trying to make it a joke, but she falters a little and lets her nervousness show through.

He frowns. “Are you kidding? Of course! Everybody misses you.”

She walks into the house, and it hasn’t changed at all. Not a thing out of place, except Rutherford, the polar bear in the entryway, who has been dressed up differently. Today he’s wearing a leather jacket, maybe one of Jack’s.

She lets Mac close the door and then lead her to the deck. She can tell he’s excited to make the announcement of her arrival.

She’s nervous. Will they be happy to see her? She left and just never came back. They knew she was recovered, and still chose not to come back. Even her calls to them had tapered off. It had just gotten too hard to hear his voice over the line and not be able to see him, to touch him casually the way she’d done in the past without giving herself away. It just hurt too much. So, the broken person she is, she opted for complete isolation from him. Which meant isolation from the rest of her friends. But that hadn’t worked, and she’d crossed the world.

“Who’s at the door Mac?” Bozer’s voice floats to them as she reaches the foot of the stairs leading to the deck.

“Did we order pizza?” Riley’s voice.

Sam sets her foot on the first stair, tentative.

“I don’t think so,” a woman’s voice, unfamiliar, husky and warm, but young.

“Maybe we should have,” Matty says, “now that Bozer’s moved out does Mac even have anything to cook with anymore?”

“An old friend came to visit,” Mac says, running up the stairs, and even though he’s faced away from her she can hear the grin in his words.

“Alright, that’s enough suspense man, we’ve got a lotta friends. Who is it?” Jack asks, his accented voice gravelly and perfect, warming her to the core and making her legs shake as she takes another stair.

Sam huffs a quick breath to still her nervousness and walks slowly up the rest of the stairs.

Mac’s standing near the fire pit across the deck, and when she reaches the top of the stairs, she's alone. Isolated from the group.

Everyone is sitting around the fire, beers in hand, and she searches them eagerly until her eyes land on Jack, hoping to see something in his eyes when their gazes meet. Hoping that she can tell immediately if this was the right decision. Hoping he feels the same way she does.

There’s happy recognition in his face, and he breaks open a big wide smile for her, standing up immediately. But it’s nothing beyond friendly recognition. She doesn’t let her heart break yet, she doesn’t give up so easily as that. In addition to the fact that Jack spent years and years pretending to be other people, he’s really good at hiding the things in himself that he doesn’t want anyone else to see despite his open demeanour .

“Well, well, if it ain’t Miss Cage,” Jack says sauntering across the deck toward her. He opens his arms. He means to hug her.

Sam is suddenly afraid. When he closes around her she won’t want to let go. But it isn’t the right time for that admission and conversation, not with everyone around. And holy shit she wants to hug him so badly.

He seems to think better of it when he gets close to her, turns, sets his beer aside, and then comes back in with his arms wide.

She smiles at him and hopes he doesn’t see her heart in the happiness he’s caused. She slips her arms around his middle. He’s all thick muscle just like she remembers, and he pulls her into a bear hug that squeezes the air from her lungs. She’s forced to breathe in again, and it tastes like Jack: musky, and male, and perfect. Her fingers clutch at the back of his soft t-shirt before she can stop herself, but she untangles them quickly.

“It’s good to see you girl,” he says. It sounds so sincere and she hopes the hint of longing there isn’t just in her imagination.

“You too Jack,” she says as she gets her breathing under control. It’s comforting, like hugging Mac, but it’s so much more than that. It’s a little bit of satisfaction, a drop of balm on a burn. She wants so many things: to nuzzle deeper into his chest, to slip her hands under his shirt and touch his hot skin, to steal him away and talk for hours while they drive up the coast in his GTO. She can’t stop wanting. Hasn’t been able to since she left, no matter what she’s tried.

“Come on and have a seat,” Jack says as he pulls away much sooner than she’d like. But he could have hugged her for the rest of time and it wouldn’t be enough.

He keeps a hand on her lower back as he leads her to the fire pit and it makes her tingle all over. 

What she wouldn’t give to shove Jack into a chair, sit in his lap, and kiss the breath from him. She wishes that she’d been able to catch Jack alone first. Deal with everything welling up inside of her. But he hadn’t been at his apartment, and she’d guessed right to come to Mac’s house. Now she has to sit with everyone around the fire and pretend she’s listening to their conversation when all she’ll be able to think about is Jack sitting just a few feet away.

Sam takes a seat on the bench, and Mac immediately pushes a beer into her hand, sitting down next to her. Riley’s on her other side. Jack next to Riley. Matty, Bozer and the new girl sit across the fire from them. Bozer’s awfully close to the girl. Girlfriend, maybe?

Mac leans close and whispers to Sam: “See, I told you they’d be happy.” His breath ghosts across her cheek, and she wonders if she still has to worry about his crush on her in all this, or if he’s moved on. From the sparkle in his eyes she’s leaning toward: still hung up on her, if only just a little.

And she’s not sure Mac’s right about the team being happy from the way Matty’s glaring at her over the fire, her eyes narrowed with wariness. They'd been good friends once, but Matty knows that she hasn't been honest about her reasons for not coming back to the Phoenix, and a little trust was lost there. Sam smiles at her in response. Matty thinks Sam’s playing a game of some kind here, but she’s not. Matty will understand that once things between her and Jack get figured out, whichever way they go; good or bad. The idea of bad makes her stomach twist.

“So what’ve you been up to Cage?” Jack asks, drawing her attention back to his smiling face. Those laugh lines, those brown eyes, it would be so easy for her to just stare at him and forget about everyone else. Instead she pulls out her years of covert training and swallows her feelings down into her stomach until she can deal with them later.

“Nothing very interesting,” she says, pretending the shy and uninteresting girl that Mac has always liked. It’s awkward to play to his interest, but at the same time she wants to move the attention away from herself, and it’s the persona that works best. “What about you guys?” She meets the new girl’s eye across the fire, and waves. “I’m Samantha Cage, by the way.”

“Oh! Right!” Bozer sits up straighter, his attention turning toward the beauty beside him. “You guys never actually met! This is Leanna. She’s… she… uh…”

Matty finishes Bozer’s sentence, her eyes flinty and focused on Sam. “She took your job when you chose not to return.”

Sam’s spent a lifetime not being phased by intimidating people, and she just smiles casually at Matty before turning her attention toward Leanna. “I heard so much about you, but we never did get a chance to meet. You were at spy school together, yeah?”

“Yeah, that’s where we met,” Leanna replies, eyes darting to Bozer with a little smile. “And I heard a lot about you too. But we just… never crossed paths. And then when you… it was too good an opportunity to pass up.”

“Best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Bozer says, shifting closer and putting an arm around Leanna.

“Alright, alright,” Jack says, “enough with the lovey dovey stuff.” He looks at Sam and raises an eyebrow. “Get these two started and it’s pet names and kissy noises all night.”

Sam smiles back, but then turns her attention from him before it becomes suspicious. There’s still nothing in Jack’s eyes that says anything outside of being glad to see a friend.

After that it’s easy for Sam to keep the attention deflected from her. There’s been a lot happening with everyone, and she doesn’t have to try as hard as she expected to keep her gaze away from Jack.

Mac’s the focus of a lot of the storytelling. After finding out his father was Oversight, Mac went to Nigeria, where he met and fell in love with a teacher in a little village; Nasha. When he talks about Nasha his eyes light up, and he looks into the fire like he’s imagining he’s actually somewhere else. Ever if there is a residual crush for Sam lingering in him, he’s consumed with Nasha now, so Sam isn’t worried.

The story turns to Jack going off the grid and working with some very bad men, getting on the radar of the Russian authorities. Sam’s stomach twists at the idea of Jack in so deep with such bad people. 

But Mac came back from Nigeria to help find him, and found himself back in the midst of his little family that he’d missed. 

Despite all that, Mac’s intentions were to go back to Nigeria, back to Nasha. He’s really in love, Sam can tell from the way he gushes little details that are meaningless to everyone else. But after all that, Murdoc killed Jill in a sick game to keep Mac around.

Everyone is sombre, eyes cast down, or looking at the fire, even Matty.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I didn’t hear.”

“We kept it pretty quiet,” Matty says, tearing up more than Sam had expected. “No reason to give Murdoc too much attention over it. That’s what he wants.” There’s so much bitterness in her voice.

There’s a silence hanging between them all, and Mac’s face is drawn into a mixture of anger and sadness. He blames himself. Of course he does, Murdoc probably told him it was his fault.

Sam puts a comforting arm around his shoulder. Now that she knows he’s in love with someone else, she doesn’t hesitate to touch and comfort. He leans a little into her arm and shoots her a sad smile.

Riley clears her throat, and speaks up. “But Mac was just telling us about Nasha, when you got here,” she says. “You said you had some news?”

Jack shoots an approving look at Riley and shifts a little closer to her, smiling. He catches Sam looking at him and his mouth quirks up a little more at the corners, causing his laugh lines to crinkle in the best way. Does that little extra smile for her mean something? Or is she trying to read too much into it? Why does he have to be so damn hard to analyze?

“Yeah,” Mac coughs a little to cover his emotion and blinks his eyes to clear the gathering mistiness. “Some really good news actually,” he says. “I’ve convinced Nasha to come stay in LA for a while.”

“Are you for real dude?” Jack asks, sitting tall, excitement lighting his features.

“Yeah, when she was here last month, we talked a lot about it,” Mac says. “She really wanted to think on it. But she’s going to come stay for a while. Maybe look into some classes at the University.”

“That’s awesome Mac,” Riley says, a genuine smile on her face.

Even Matty stops glaring at Sam for a few minutes to be happy for him.

After the happy news they’re able to move on to better happier topics again; funny stories from some of the ops they’ve been on; Jack tells a few lewd jokes that let Sam focus on him for long enough to barely satisfy; Riley won’t brag about her recent accomplishments leading missions, but Jack and Mac do it for her.

Matty leaves after too long, Bozer and Leanna following suit. It’s strange, the days when Sam was around, Bozer was living with Mac, and the two of them always saw everyone off at the end of the night. It’s strange for Bozer to be leaving early, and not there to close down the party.

Riley gets picked up by Billy Colton, who’s just flown in for a few days with his girlfriend; another interesting development that Sam approves of. But she’s definitely using her resources to do a background check on him later, even though Matty’s probably already done a more exhaustive one.

And finally it’s just Mac and Jack and Sam left. She’s waiting for Jack to leave, so she can ask for a ride. She’ll just say to her hotel, even though she doesn’t have one. She didn’t really plan this that far ahead. Getting here and seeing Jack was all that she could think about. And now that they’re sitting around the fire at the late hour, she’s wondering if Jack isn’t planning on staying the night. That would ruin all her plans, she thinks she might explode if she has to wait much longer to talk to him.

The conversation has petered out, and they’re sitting and watching the fire. Beer bottles are empty, no one’s getting up for another one. Jack’s actually been drinking water for an hour or two, so she’s hopeful he is planning to leave.

“Well,” Jack grunts, standing up. “Best be on my way. Leave you two to catch up some.”

“Actually,” Sam stands up too quickly, worried that she seems overly excited or anxious and given herself away. “I was wondering if I could catch a ride with you Jack.”

Mac stands up and looks a little disappointed. Maybe he does have something he wants to say to her, get off his chest, but it will have to wait.

“No problemo Cage,” Jack says with a smile. “Who needs to call an Uber when you’ve got ole Jacky boy.” It’s not sarcastic or mean or a jab. It’s just Jack being Jack.

Sam turns back to Mac and pulls him into a quick hug. “Thanks Mac,” she says. “It was great to see everyone.”

When they pull apart Mac looks serious. “That sounds like goodbye,” he says, looking down, and then meeting her eye. There’s something like loneliness there. “Are you staying at all?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she says, fighting the urge to dart a look at Jack. “Depends on how things play out.”

“Well, make sure you say goodbye before you go,” he says. He hugs her again, and before he lets go says softly: “I missed you.”

“I missed you too Mac,” she replies, giving him one more squeeze before letting him go.

“On the road missy,” Jack says, “let’s get movin’ already.”

Mac follows them to the door. Jack takes his hand and pulls him into a quick bro-hug, patting him on the back. “See you tomorrow dude,” Jack says before striding out into the night in that confidant fantastic way he does everything; shoulders back, head up, bit of swagger in his hips.

Sam follows Jack to the car, and hears Mac close the door behind them. Suddenly she thinks of Mac alone in the house, cleaning up beer bottles on the deck by himself, and she’s glad that he’s convinced Nasha to come stay. Mac doesn’t deserve loneliness. He deserves to have someone around and to be loved, not to be left behind at the end of every night so people can go be with the people they love.

Lost in her thoughts she doesn’t even realize that Jack’s holding the passenger door open for her. She meets his eye and smiles a thank you, her voice lost in all that she wants to say now that they’re alone.

“Where to?” Jack asks as he pulls out of Mac’s driveway and onto the twisting streets of the hills. “Which hotel you shacking up in?”

She looks out the window, unsure how to broach the subject that she doesn’t have one. Now that she’s alone with him and she’s allowed to focus on him, and look at him, she’s afraid to. Afraid she’ll lose her nerve because she might just break in two if he’s not interested.

“Hey Cage?” He asks.

That brings her back. That name that isn’t really hers coming out of his mouth, sounding so familiar. She hates it. Wants him to never say it again, wants to confess all her sins to him. Instead she just answers: “Yeah?”

“You jet lagged or somethin’?” He asks. “You seem a bit… tired.” There’s genuine concern in his voice.

“It’s been a long day,” she says, meeting his eye for only a moment before he turns back to the winding streets.

“Alright, let me get you home then and you can sleep it off,” he says. “Where to?”

She watches him to see what his reaction will be, when the only thing she can think to say is: “Will you take me to the Phoenix, Jack?”

He slows the car a little and meets her eye, confusion clear on his face. “I surely can,” he says, “if that’s really what you want. It’s late.”

“Please,” she says, still watching him as he navigates the downhill streets. The car is an extension of him, he doesn’t even think as he turns the wheel. And he’s probably driven out of Mac’s neighbourhood so many times he doesn’t even have to think about it anymore. She watches his hands on the steering wheel and wonders what it would feel like to have those hands on her; holding her cheeks, running his fingers through her hair, touching her bare skin. And then she blinks that thought away, it’s premature and won’t help her concentrate on what she wants to say. She turns away to look out the window again. “I just want to see it again.”

There’s so much space between them, and the bench seat would make it easy for her to slide close to him. But she squeezes herself up against the door and looks out the window.

There’s silence in the car for a while as they drive, and then Jack breaks the quiet. “Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye Cage?” He asks.

The question startles her.

“I’m not,” she says a little too forcefully, with an over-the-top scoff.

Jack grins. “Yeah, that was believable.”

She swallows hard. Despite being able to hide his emotions well when he wants to, Jack’s also not one for bullshit. “I don’t know when I’ll be back again,” she admits. “Maybe never.”

Jack doesn’t say anything more. Just drives, and she’s grateful that he seems to know what she needs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finally confesses her feelings for Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I have a habit of not finishing things. 
> 
> DO NOT worry about this one. I didn't start posting until it was DONE!
> 
> So... don't fret! Read away, and fear not!

Jack puts the car in park and sits back on the bench seat of the GTO. His arm falls naturally across the back of the seat, just where he always rests it. He looks up at the Phoenix, the building rising impressively into the dark, the first few floors lit from below by spotlights hidden in the greenery.

“Nice as you remember?” He asks. God he loves this place. It’s become home.

“Just the same,” Cage says, her voice closer. “I miss it.”

Jack turns, and she’s slid across the bench seat to the middle, just under where his hand rests. Suddenly he’s overcome with the urge to reach out and softly touch her shoulder, but he doesn’t. It would feel strange with just the two of them in the car to share such an affectionate little touch.

“Well, we missed you too,” he says. “I know Mac did for sure.” He looks back at the building. “Wanna come inside for a tour. Old time’s sake?”

“No thanks Jack,” she says. “I’m sure Matty would kill you if she found out you let unauthorized personnel inside.”

Jack waves his hand at her. “Naw… well… maybe… but she’d forgive me in the end.”

Cage chuckles.

He’s missed that sound. Her laughter needs to be earned, and it’s musical and sweet; deceptive since she’s such a handful, one of the best agents he’s ever worked with, and tough as a bag’a nails.

Her shoulder nudges his arm where it rests on the back of the seat. She’s close to him, like she wants to say something candid. Jack knows exactly what she’s going to ask: How has Mac been? Are things with Nasha really as serious as they seem?

But if she wanted to know all that, she should have stayed with Mac. The guy hadn’t been so subtle with the hints, he’d wanted her to stay, wanted to catch up. Cage is good enough at reading people that she should know that.

“You know I’m not coming back to the Phoenix, right Jack?” She asks.

Jack looks over, and somehow she’s closer still, her knee almost touching his.

“Yeah, I heard you sayin’ that to Mac,” he says, “too bad to. You’re one of the best agents I’ve ever had the privilege of seein’ in action.”

Cage turns her attention to the fingers she’s interlacing in her lap, her face goes a little red in the dim light. Blushing? Cage? What in the sam hill is going on?

“So, you’re just in town for a quick visit then?” Jack asks, finally turning his attention completely away from the building and watching Cage intently. Is she in trouble? Does she need help? Jack knows in an instant that he’d do anything to help her.

“I didn’t think this would be so hard,” she says, still watching her hands.

“Cage, whatever’s going on you can tell me,” Jack says, turning toward her and taking her shoulders in his hands. Their knees touch. She’s shaking a little. Now he’s getting genuinely worried, especially since she won’t look him in the eye. If he had to guess, he’d put Vegas money on her reason for coming to LA being behind why she’s so upset, and he’s really worried she’s in some kinda real trouble.

She meets his eye finally, and her green eyes are wide. She looks scared, with a streak of defiance woven in down deep. Her hair's gotten into her face, and he wants to tuck the stray pieces behind her ear, but that’s too intimate for their friendship.

There’s a tenseness in her body, but when she looks away from him, back at the building in front of them, she sags back against the seat, biting at her lip nervously, becoming limp and resigned to something.

Jack lets go of her shoulders, and puts his hand back on the seat behind her. She wants to confess something, years of interrogation has given him great instinct for that moment when someone’s on the brink, and he can feel it in the air. So he sits back to let her confess. And she doesn’t move away from him, just stays close, their knees touching, she feels at ease with him but something also has her nerves wracked. Jack waits.

“I had this all planned out,” she says finally.

He doesn’t ask what she’s planned. Once people start to talk, it’s best to just let them go.

“I had rehearsed it in my head a million different ways,” she says. “And now I’m here, and everything I planned sounds foolish and stupid and dramatic. And I just can’t blurt it out.”

What in the hell is she talking about?

“I wanted to tell you why, and how, and when it all started,” she says, still watching the Phoenix. “Make you understand why, like maybe it would convince you somehow…”

He’s never heard Cage talk so much about her feelings or intentions. But she still hasn’t really said anything at all. What is it that she’s so worried Jack won’t understand? He’s always liked Cage a lot, they’ve worked close, but they were never close friends one on one. Mac was always there to come between them. Or even Riley. So why is she confessing to him?

When she doesn’t continue talking, he interrupts the silence. “You know, Cage,” he feels serious, like he’s putting his Delta face on, but there’s something going on here and it needs to get said, “I ain’t never been one for beatin’ around the bush. Just come out and tell me, ok?”

She swallows hard, her fingers interlaced so hard that her knuckles are white.

“It’s gonna be ok,” Jack promises, “whatever’s goin’ on, it’s gonna be ok. Just tell me.” He puts his left hand on her knee, the knee that’s still touching his, still shaking a little.

The shaking stops, and she looks up, meeting his eye. The fear is gone and it’s all determination now. “No beating around the bush?” She asks with a smile.

He is so grateful for that smile. A smile means this isn’t as bad as he thought. He smiles back at her.

“You know, I’ve been gone almost a year,” she says. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Jack assumes she means all of them, and doesn’t say a word.

She smiles and looks at the roof of the GTO, like she might find some help there. She licks her lips and continues. “I think about you every day Jack,” she laughs a little bit, one of those nervous laughs people use to cover their feelings. “You’re under my skin, and I just… can’t get you out of my head. So here I am.”

This is it. This is the thing she wanted to confess. The thing that has her so nervous. She doesn’t just care about Jack as a friend, this is more than that.

And that realization melts his brain for a minute. Jack doesn’t think about fellow agents that way anymore. Not since Sarah. Everyone he works with is a closed door to him, not even a consideration. Sure, he flirts with other agents, but hell he even flirts with Mac sometimes, it’s just who he is; flirtatious by nature.

Jack looks up at the Phoenix, and thinks it’s fitting she’s brought him here, because looking at that building makes him realize that she’s not a fellow agent anymore. They don’t work together anymore. And he feels the warmth of that door opening to him.

Jack’s brain flashes back over the time they’d worked together; the way she’d grasped tightly to him and exhaled in his ear when he’d spun her around in the basement of the casino; the kiss she didn’t pull away from in that truck in Nigeria and the way she’d smiled wide afterward; the blush that had crept up her cheeks when he’d offered her the first fresh donut after the casino mission; the video message she’d sent Mac that ended with: Keep each other safe, especially Jack. 

But most importantly were the moments they shared on planes after an op. Mac would fall asleep, he always slept on planes, but Jack and Cage always stayed up. Jack told her all about his family in Texas, stories about his life, and she would share tidbits about Australia. They’d sit beside each other, leaned against headrests, and she would look at him and smile wide, her big green eyes laser focused on him, and Jack would think: she’s gonna make someone all kinds lucky one day, this intelligent, funny, beautiful woman who was one of the biggest badasses he’d ever met. But he’d never ever considered he could be that person, though maybe in a little corner of his heart that he didn’t think about too much, he’d longed for it.

All of these moments flash in front of his eyes in the space of a second, like maybe he’s about to die. And they all change in context and become something different. Every look she gave him, every word, has all changed. And it warms Jack’s heart to the core that such a woman could want him. That someone like Cage would come back for him, all the way across the world.

Cage is talking, and he doesn’t catch the beginning. His heart’s too busy restarting.

“…A lot, and I didn’t mean to spring it on you. But I had to.”

Jack turns to look at her. “You had to?” He manages.

“I’ve felt like this for a long time Jack,” she says, “and it was eating me up inside. To not know…”

“If I felt the same,” Jack finishes.

“From your face, and your reaction, I think I know the answer,” she says, sounding disappointed.

“Don’t go puttin’ words in my mouth,” Jack scolds gently. “This is a lot to take in you know.”

Suddenly her knee against his means so much more. She’s leaned against the seat, his hand and arm grazing her shoulder and neck. This beautiful woman has just confessed that she’s wanted him for a while and he has no idea what to do with it. The great Jack Dalton, romancer extraordinaire, struck dumb.

“I get that Jack, I do,” she says, “but I don’t want you to have to think about it. It’s a yes or no question, there are no maybe’s here. Either you feel it or you don’t, I just want to know and then I can move on with my life.”

He’s leaning toward her, and he doesn’t know how that’s happened, but there’s a pull from her now, like gravity. He can’t resist it. Now that he knows he can want and have, it’s all he wants. 

He thinks back on the moments they’ve had together: playing card games on long flights; going to the shooting range together; even that one time they sparred. The sexual tension is evident to him now that he’s open to it. The soft touches they spared for each other, the little knowing looks when no one else was watching; winks and secret, shared smiles.

Jack’s closer to her now, and her face is still prepared for disappointment, as though he would lean in and whisper “no” to her, cruelly.

“You sure you don’t want to come back to the Phoenix?” He asks.

She nods, certainty written in every line of her face.

“Good,” he says, and they’re so close he can feel her breath, and it’s exited, coming out of her in little rushes. “Cause I don’t get into relationships with people I work with.”

“Me neither,” she gets out in a rush before she closes the space between them and kisses him hard.

It’s not the chaste “beginning of a relationship” kiss he’s expecting. Their mouths open to each other immediately, and Jack grips her thigh hard with one hand and wraps his other arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. 

Her arms wrap around his neck, fingers up into his hair and it feels so good he almost moans into her mouth. He hasn’t been touched by someone else in a long while, but it’s not about being touched by just anyone, it’s about her touch and the history behind it. He’s never let himself miss her as much as he really has, and now she’s touching and kissing him and he realizes that there was an empty place inside him that she’d left behind.

Without warning she pushes him back against the seat, lifts her leg and settles into his lap. It lights his body up immediately, arousal shooting through every vein.

He pushes her back a little to free his mouth and gasp in air.

“It’s… kinda… fast… don’t you… think?” He asks, looking up at her. And it’s not that he wouldn’t drag her into the backseat if he could, but he’s more of a gentleman than that. He feels obligated to at least buy her dinner or something first.

She’s looming over him in the night, backlit by the Phoenix lights, her eyes excited, her hair hanging all around her. Her hips are shifting minutely against him like she can’t control herself, and each little movement feels like an earthquake to him, rocking his body and getting him more and more excited.

“Fast, Jack?” She asks. “This is the slowest moving relationship I’ve ever had. All the waiting and wanting. We’ve gotten to know each other slowly, learned to trust each other and be friends. What’s left now but this?” She kisses him again, and then drags her lips across his cheek to kiss at his ear. “Unless you want me to slow down? Stop?” The tone of her voice says she really doesn’t want to.

His body is telling him he’s an idiot to stop the wonderful sensations she’s providing, but his brain manages to take a little control back. “Not here,” he gasps against her ear before he kisses at her jaw and neck, tasting her skin.

She arches against him at the sensation, and it feels so good when she moves that way. So he kisses her again, and this time when she arches, she groans too.

“Not here,” he says again, more to himself than to her, before he pushes a little to let her know what he wants.

She swings her leg over him against and returns to the seat.

Jack closes his eyes and tries to steady his breathing. He hasn’t been with anyone but his trusty right hand since Dawn, and his body is more than a little eager to get back in the game. He’s so hard he’s sure it’ll probably be considered impaired driving to get back on the road. But he needs to get them somewhere private.

Cage’s voice sounds amused when she speaks. “You need me to drive Jack?”

“You just…” He swallows hard, and opens his eyes. “You just move on over to the far side of the seat there. I don’t know if I’ll be able to concentrate with you… close.”

Cage smiles and ducks her head a little, the way she’s always done when she’s a little self conscious; not enough to hide her eyes, and she’s still looking at him with excitement as she slides back across the seat to wedge herself up against the door.

“This far enough, Jack?” She asks flirtatiously. And goddamn his name sounds good on her lips now that things are different. Rolling off her tongue in that wonderful accent. And now that he thinks back, he’s loved it every time she’s said his name right from the very beginning.

“Darlin’, China ain’t far enough away from me right now,” he says, gripping the steering wheel tight.

“Jack?” She asks, and the nervousness is back in her voice.

He looks over at her, and she fumbles with the seatbelt as she pulls it across her body. But he doesn’t have time to focus on her body, she’s still worried about something and that just won’t do.

“Yeah?” He tries not to let the desire leak out in his tone, pushes it down and lets his concern rise to the surface instead.

“I have to know… if we do this…” she pauses, and when she starts again her voice is firm. “It’s not just a one night thing. I won’t do that. I can’t do that.” Her face is stern, the playful flirtiness all gone. She’s prepared to be shot down.

Jack wants to pull her into his arms and tell her he would never do that. That’s not him. Sure he did it with Dawn, but that was different. He’d been prepared for more with Dawn, but she’d walked away, and with a handful of his stuff too. 

He wants to hold Cage and tell her that she means more to him than a one-night stand, but he knows that if he touches her and lets his sentimentality take over they’re done for and they’ll never get out of the damn parking lot.

He meets her eyes and matches the serious look on her face. “Me neither,” he says, honestly. “If you want to slow things down, want to date or somethin’ first. Or, if you’re heading home we can talk on the phone. We don’t have to do anything tonight other than talk.”

“Jack, I came all the way from Australia to be with you,” she says, “if I wanted to talk I would have just picked up the phone. I just need to make sure I’m not in this alone.”

Jack shakes his head.

“Then take me home Jack Dalton,” she says, “or I’m about to get charged with indecent exposure.” She laughs and the sound bounces around his car, and man did he miss that sound.

Jack smiles wide at her, revs the engine, and speeds out of the parking lot.

The drive from the Phoenix to Jack’s apartment feels so much longer than ever before. He doesn’t remember it being so long. But finally they’re at his place, and he follows her up the fire escape to the back door. He looks down at the stairs on their walk up, wanting to be a gentleman despite the fact that twenty minutes earlier she was sitting in his lap in the front seat of his car.

Inside, he tosses his jacket onto one of the bar stools and begins to feel a little awkward. Despite the fact that they’ve been kissing, they’re in the bright lights of his apartment now, and he feels strange. Like he’s carrying something fragile and he needs to be very careful with it. If something doesn’t work out, and she leaves too, what does that mean for him? They’ve got a friendship built up, they’ve worked closely together, and Jack worries about losing it. But it was lost anyway, he thinks, because she was gone for almost a year, so what is there to lose really?

Cage mills around the apartment, looking at things she’s seen a million times before when he’s invited everybody over for movie nights and beers. There’s nothing new.

Jack waits.

She stands in the middle of the living room and turns towards him, watching across the room. He feels the pull again, now that they know where they stand, he feels drawn to her and takes a step before he even realizes what he’s doing.

“Jack?” She asks, and her voice is low, her eyes heavily lidded, mouth open a little.

“Yeah?” He asks, swallowing hard.

She shifts, and she’s not wearing anything particularly alluring: khaki shorts and a button up shirt over a tank top, pretty standard Cage. But when she moves he watches the muscles in her legs bunch and then relax, thinks about those muscles, traces them up to where her shorts obscure his view. Jack wants to see the rest. Wants to watch her body writhe and move free of clothing. Wants to touch her skin. He can. She’ll let him.

“Come here,” she requests.

“Where?” He asks, nervously, and trying to make a joke. “Like… over there?”

She smiles wide and nods coyly. “Yeah over here.”

Things ease between them, the awkwardness fading.

Jack obeys, and walks to her, but he’s not full of the cocky swagger he puts on most of the time, he trips a little on his own feet and the furniture he can normally walk around in the dark. He gets close to her, but doesn’t reach out. There’s a wall between them still and he can’t figure out what it is, something that’s holding him back.

Cage reaches out and takes his hands in her own, drawing him closer and wrapping his arms around her. When she lets go, he wraps her tighter pressing at her lower back. Their bodies meet and Jack’s body is back at it again, trying to take over his brain and tell him what to do.

Instead, Jack waits.

Cage just looks up at him with those big round perfect green eyes. She’s a few inches shorter than him and it feels just perfect, she feels perfect in his arms.

They stare like that, standing on the edge of something together.

“Jack?” Cage asks finally.

“Mmhmm?”

“You gonna kiss me or what?” She smiles, sly.

Jack doesn’t need any more than that, he leans down and kisses her plump perfect lips.

Their mouths open and their tongues slide together, tasting and moving faster the more excited they get.

Jack pulls her hard against him, and all his body knows is wanting. He can feel the muscles churning under her skin, feel her strength under his hands and against him. He brings a hand up to hold at the back of her neck and tangle in her hair. And her tongue keeps slipping against his own, slick and wet and such a turn on.

God she tastes so damn good. Her mouth, the way her tongue moves against his… god all he wants is that tongue other places; all over his skin, licking lines and teasing at him.

And then, despite the overwhelming presence of her, his mind connects just what it is that feels off. What it is about this whole thing that makes him nervous. The invisible barrier that he feels like they’re pushing against.

Mac. Mac’s always had a soft spot for Cage, and Jack has never been the guy to steal someone else’s crush. Sure, Mac’s with Nasha, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a part of him deep down that won’t always care about Cage. And Jack can’t do that too Mac.

Jack presses back, but Cage isn’t having any of it and won’t let him go, chasing his mouth and tongue with her own. He wants to lean into her and ignore his gut, but he knows he could never do that.

“Cage,” he gets out against her lips.

She leans away from him panting. Her chest heaves against his and he wants to run his hand up under her shirt and feel the breaths going in and out of her body, skin to skin. But he doesn’t.

“Jack. You’ve just had your tongue in my mouth,” she says through gasped breaths and a smile. “I think you can call me Sam now.”

He smiles back. “Listen Sam…” man did her name taste good on his tongue. “I gotta… I can’t…” How could he say it? He didn’t want it to sound like he’d been thinking about Mac while they were making out… even if he had. “I can’t do this…” he leaves the end hanging so she’ll know it’s not a finished sentence. It’s not that he can’t do it altogether, but there’s a requirement to meet.

Somehow she knows. And it feels like they’ve known each other forever, and everything’s new at the same time.

Sam dips her head to look up into his eyes. He didn’t realize he’d been looking down, like he’s ashamed. “Can’t do this to Mac, yeah?” She asks, slipping her hands around the back of his neck. Her fingers are cool and they help him feel centred.

Jack meets her eyes and clenches his jaw. “He’s like a brother to me,” he says. “I can’t go about breakin’ his heart like that. He’s had eyes for you since he met you, you’re good at readin' people, you know that.”

Sam nods. “But he’s got Nasha now.”

“It’s just… it’ll break his heart if I don’t talk to him first,” he says, fingers gently tickling circles at the small of her back; tank top and shirt still between their skin.

“You know Jack,” she says, serious now, “I’m not a piece of property to be traded around. You don’t need anyone’s permission but mine.”

“I’m sorry Sam,” Jack takes a deep breath, trying to suppress the overwhelming arousal at being pressed up against her. She can feel it too, it’s not that subtle. Almost everything in him is saying: touch her, kiss her, feel her… and yet there is an annoying, tugging bit of loyalty that just won’t let him follow through. Jack knows that Mac will approve. And he knows that everything will be better once it’s out in the open. “I’ve gotta talk to Mac.”

Sam doesn’t show any outward anger or frustration. Instead she steps out of his arms and takes a few steps back toward the kitchen. She points down the hallway. “This way to the bedroom, yeah?” She turns back to him for confirmation.

Jack nods.

“I’ll tell you what Jack Dalton,” she steps closer to him again, so that their bodies meet tentatively. She lowers her voice to a husky, gravelly whisper. “I’m going to go to your bedroom and take off all my clothes. And I’m going to crawl into your bed and wait there for you, perfectly naked, until you come home.”

Jack’s body urges him forward again, but he doesn’t take the bait. He can’t throw his relationship with Mac out the window for this, not when he knows that a simple conversation beforehand will solve everything. “I can’t make any promises,” he says softly when she leans up to kiss him again. “I don’t know if I’ll be joinin’ you or not.”

Sam drops a sweet little kiss on his cheek. “Then I’ll have a dreamy sleep,” she says with a wolfish grin. “And your sheets will smell like me until you wash them.”

Jack groans aloud as she steps away. He keeps his feet rooted to the living room floor while he watches her start to unbutton the last few buttons on her shirt and walk down the hallway to his bedroom; to his bed, where he could have her right now if he wanted. Writhing in his sheets he could taste her body and make her scream and touch her skin and - Jack stops that train of thought before his feet follow his fantasies down that hallway.

Instead he grabs his coat again, and heads for the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Mac have a heart to heart.

Mac gets another beer from the fridge and returns to the deck. It’s getting really late, but he sits and thinks and sips at another ill advised drink. Drinking alone is never a good sign.

When Bozer had lived with him, Mac wouldn’t have had the extra beer. Bozer would have said: I’m turnin’ in man. And Mac would have felt guilty for grabbing another beer and drinking alone.

But now he _is_ alone. Really alone. Everyone has their own homes to go to. Nobody crashes on the couch these days, no one is sleeping in the spare room.

It’s one of the reasons he’s glad that Nasha agreed to come for a while. He’s missed her, and he doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

It’s not about sex. Coming from the small village she lives in, she’s more traditional in many ways. And it’s refreshing to Mac. She’s sweet and innocent, and smart. But he wants to hold her and kiss her and spend his days with her. She’s so different than any woman he’s ever wanted or been with before.

His mind is drawn back to Cage. It was so good to see her again, to hold her in his arms. And he starts to wonder, half drunk, nostalgic, and lonely, if he’s making the right choice. Is Nasha the kind of person for him? Or should he be with someone more like Cage? Someone who knows exactly what he does, knows where he comes from, and how dangerous he is.

He’d be lying to himself if he thinks he doesn’t still have something for Cage. Deep down there was a wonderful twinge the moment he opened the door and saw her face. Those eyes, that smile.

But he’s with Nasha now. Nasha who doesn’t just bring a twinge, Nasha who makes him feel warm all over. And he can’t wait for her to come to LA. He’s hoping he’ll be able to convince her to stay with him, just in the spare room of course, nothing indecent. If Jack’s taught him anything over the years, it’s how to be a gentleman. And Nasha deserves a gentleman.

The doorbell rings, followed by frantic knocks, and Mac jumps up from the fireside, immediately on alert, and goes to the door.

Jack bursts in as soon as the door is open.

“Ok Mac, here’s the thing, I just…” Jack tears at his hair, pacing the entryway, and won’t look Mac in the eye. “Oh man I really need to talk this out with my best friend right now. I got no idea what’s going on. I feel like I’m dreamin’.”

Mac sets his bottle and down and approaches Jack slowly. “You know you can talk to me about anything man,” Mac says, “what’s up?”

Jack finally stops and looks up. He leans back against the wall heavily. His eyes are full of emotion, not all bad. He’s seen Jack depressed, and welling with PTSD-fuelled emotion. This isn’t that. This is excitement and nervousness mixed up together. Jack smiles feebly.

“What’s going on Jack?” Mac asks.

“Sam,” he says simply, and when Mac’s brows crumple in confusion Jack amends: “Cage,” with a roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand.

“Is she ok?” Mac asks before he can stop himself. Jack wouldn’t have left her if she weren’t ok. Not even at the hospital, he just would have called Mac. And Jack’s expression would read grief and worry if something bad had happened; like the day Cage had been in surgery after Murdoc... When Jack had been so sick with worry he couldn't drink coffee and didn't move from his chair through the whole night.

“Oh she’s just fine,” Jack says.

“Ok Jack, whatever’s going on, just come and sit down, ok?” He leads Jack back to the deck and they sit down by the dying fire.

Jack sighs and puts his head in his hands, resting heavily there.

“So Jack,” Mac prods, smiling and trying to make light of whatever’s going on. “Wanna tell me why you’re sitting on my deck at 2 AM freaking out?”

Jack looks down at the deck and sighs. “I gotta know if you’re over her man,” he says.

“Over who?” Mac asks. “Cage?” His heart plummets. He’s not. If that’s the question, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be totally over her.

“Yeah, Cage,” Jack replies softly. He peeks a look at Mac, between his fingers. “See!” Jack sits up. “I knew it! This was a bad idea.” He stands up like he’s determined to leave and go do something stupid.

Mac grabs his forearm, hard, and yanks him back down. “Jack, what are you talking about?” 

Talking about Cage, Mac being over her or not, he’s got to wonder if Cage hasn’t confessed something to Jack. Maybe she came back for Mac, and then heard him telling stories about Nasha? What a mess. But it’s a mess that makes Mac unsure exactly how he feels, like he’s on unsteady ground.

Jack swallows hard and turns to look at Mac. He’s dead serious when he says: “She says she came back here for me.”

Mac’s breath punches out of his chest. That is not what he was expecting. Cage and Jack? Jack and Cage? Since when has that been a thing? Hadn’t she always smiled at Mac? Told Mac very specifically and clearly when they first met that she didn’t date coworkers? He thought that meant she’d felt the chemistry between them. Between her and Mac. Not her and Jack. Jealousy surges up in him. But this is Jack. His best friend. His brother.

“I know man,” Jack scoffs, raising his eyebrows. “Crazy, right? That ball came so far outta left field it might as well’a been right field.”

Mac’s worldview flips upside down and he feels nauseas. Or maybe that’s one too many beers gurgling in his stomach. He thinks back on their time together, when they were all together, and it seems obvious now. She has a lot more in common with Jack than Mac. She always seemed drawn away from Mac toward Jack. He’d always thought she’d been trying to avoid anything developing with a coworker, so she was steering away from Mac. Plus everyone was drawn to Jack; he was impossible not to love.

Cage came back for Jack. Of course she did, Jack is a great catch. Maybe she even loves him. 

Jack’s spent his whole life chasing after other people, trying to find love. And now someone’s come back for him. Jack deserves to be happy, Mac wants that for him more than any other person he’s ever met. Maybe because it’s been so elusive for Jack, and despite all the heartbreak the man seems to shine a bright glass-is-half-full kinda light on everything anyway.

The jealousy in Mac goes back to sleep.

“See, this is what I’m talkin’ about,” Jack says, his shoulders slumping forward. “You’re not ok with it. So I’m just gonna-”

“Shut up Jack,” Mac says with a laugh. “Man, you are my best friend, but you are acting crazy right now.”

“This is a primo ‘acting crazy’ opportunity man!”

Then something totally crazy occurs to Mac and his face falls. “Jack,” he says sternly, “please for the love of god tell me you didn’t leave Cage somewhere to come talk to me about this?”

“Course I did man.”

Mac shakes his head and closes his eyes, running his hands back through his hair.

“Told her I had to talk to my boy,” he smacks Mac on the shoulder.

“Let me get this straight,” Mac says opening his eyes. “A beautiful women came across the world to throw herself at you, and you told her to just ‘hold on a sec while I go talk about this with my buddy?’”

“This ain’t just about her bein’ a beautiful woman Mac,” Jack says. “This is Cage dude!” Jack is done for, Mac can see it in his eyes. He’s got that dreamy look he gets when he’s falling for someone. It’s happened a few times over the years. It happens when Jack looks at Diane, it happened when he met Dawn; for all of five minutes until she stole all his stuff.

“So? It’s Cage, big deal,” Mac says. “You guys know each other better than any other woman you’ve dated. You can be honest with her about who you are and what you do. And she’s seen it, probably even read your file, and she still flew all the way from Australia to be with you.”

Jack’s eyes go wide. “You really think she’s read my file?” He asks, horrified.

Mac rolls his eyes. “Not the takeaway from all that man,” he says, “but yeah, probably.”

“It’s a big deal…” Jack pauses and looks Mac square in the face, dead serious. “Cause you’ve always been sweet on her Mac. And I don’t wanna… our friendship ain’t worth it. Not even for somebody as great as Sam.”

“Jack, you’ll always be my best friend, and I mean this in the nicest way: but get the hell out of my house,” he’s grinning for good measure, so Jack will understand, will know exactly what he means.

“For real Mac? You’re ok with this?”

“Do you think she’ll make you happy?” Mac asks.

Jack nods. “It’s weird, cause I never thought about it until tonight, but now it feels… I dunno… it’s sentimental… but almost like it was meant to be, you know?”

Mac thinks about meeting Nasha by chance when he was running away from his problems, and he knows exactly what Jack means. He nods.

Jack stares into the fire for a moment.

“Jack?” Mac asks.

“Yeah Mac?”

“You deserve to be happy. Now get out of my house.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his conversation with Mac, Jack rushes back to his apartment feeling a weight lifted from his shoulders.
> 
> And Sam is waiting... as promised...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part of the fic where the smut kicks in... and just... that's pretty much the rest of the fic.

The apartment is dark, not a sound. Jack doesn’t turn a light on, he doesn’t need one; covert ops has trained him to function in the dark, especially in a place he knows as well as his own apartment.

He shrugs out of his leather jacket and hangs it on a bar stool on his way to the bedroom. When he gets there his eyes have adjusted to the darkness and he can see a figure silhouetted under the white sheets. The duvet has been pushed to the end of the bed.

Jack leans in the doorway.

The sheets rustle and Cage rolls toward him in the bed, he can feel her eyes on him.

“Is your conscience lighter now?” She asks.

A thrill goes up his spine at the rolling sound of her accented voice. It’s really happening, he’s not dreaming.

“Light as a feather,” he says.

Cage throws her legs over the side of the bed, slipping them free of the sheet, tanned skin somehow almost glowing in the darkness; as though she’s the vessel for the hot Australian sun and it’s shining from her pores. She sits up and is about to toss the sheet totally aside.

Jack steps forward and holds the sheet up against her shoulder to keep it from falling. She is hard and lean under his hand, just as he remembers from anytime he’s had an excuse to touch her in the past.

“Ain’t even gonna let me unwrap my present?” He asks saucily, grinning down at her.

Now that they’re closer he can see her in more detail, even in the darkness. Her eyes shine defiant like always, despite their romantic situation. Her cheekbones look like they could cut. Her lips are in a holding pattern between amused and mischievous. She doesn’t answer him, but holds the sheet up as she stands from the bed and drags it with her, pulling it from where it’s tucked under the foot of the mattress.

Jack shudders, the very idea of touching her skin with his, mouthing at her body, rolling in the sheets with her, makes him want so much. He’s harder than he can ever remember being before.

And yet, even with all that blood rushing south, he stops a foot away and doesn’t reach out. Instead he asks the most sentimental question he could possibly think of at the stupidest time.

“Why me?” He wonders aloud. “Why not Mac, or Riley?”

Her expression softens, and it should feel like pity, but somehow it doesn’t. “I remember the first time we met. Do you remember?”

Jack nods.

Cage continues. “I thought you were an oaf immediately. You were a total dick, and the only thing that seemed important to you was protecting Mac. You teased and taunted me and called me sweetheart and I wanted to punch you in your stupid American face.”

Jack wants to make a joke, laugh it off, but he doesn’t. Somehow this is going to end up with the explanation as to why he’s the luckiest man in the whole world and he’s genuinely curious.

“But that’s your ‘tough guy’ front Jack. And I went on mission after mission with you. I watched you lose your mind over Riley’s safety on the Artemis mission. Watched you put your life on the line for every member of your team, even me. Watched you tear up when someone got hurt on your watch.” 

Jack remembers visiting her in the hospital after Murdoc shot her. Sitting at her bedside and holding her long fingers in his own. Trying to be the comforting friend. He remembers feeling torn in that moment, knowing that Mac was his number one priority but feeling that somehow he’d failed by not protecting Cage from Murdoc as well. He’d shed a few tears at her bedside and she’d smiled and told him it barely hurt at all and that it wasn’t his fault.

She steps forward and puts a hand at the side of Jack’s throat. Her fingers are cool and grounding, and for some reason Jack feels suddenly choked up and sentimental. “And I saw that, deep down, you have the kindest, biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.” She draws her long beautiful fingers down from his throat to dance lightly over his collarbone and press at his chest, right above his heart. “Don’t you get it Jack? I’m not the prize to be won, or the present to be unwrapped. You are.”

She drops the sheet, her naked body seemingly lit up from the inside; golden and glorious. Her long messy hair trails down her back. Her eyes are excited and full of emotion. Her mouth has decided on intensity. 

She’s more beautiful than Jack ever imagined. All lithe strength and danger. Her hipbones are sharp like her cheekbones, jutting out from her skin dangerously. And though she’s skinny, he can see the muscle shifting just below the surface with every movement she makes. Make no mistake, she’s dangerous.

Her strong fingers grip Jack tightly through his jeans before shifting upward to slip the t-shirt over his head. Never breaking eye contact, she undoes his belt buckle and slips his jeans and boxers to the floor. As she straightens back up along his body, she rubs herself against him in all the places that count and stoke his excitement.

When she’s standing again, she takes his face in her cool hands and pulls him down for a kiss. She opens her mouth to him immediately and he dives in, their tongues meeting and playing with each other; a strange game like cat and mouse, or king of the castle. It’s a battle of passion and excitement. Jack doesn’t care who wins, because either way he does.

She draws him backward, and they stumble a little over each other’s feet, but not much. Secret agents are pretty good at concentrating even under the influence of overwhelming passion, and their footing is mostly steady.

Cage breaks away from him with steady pressure from her fingertips pushing him away.

“Sit down Jack,” she says. It’s a request, not a demand. They’re equals.

Jack sits at the edge of the bed.

With no warning, Cage takes Jack in hand, straddles him and slips down around him, taking him all the way inside in one soft, perfect, wet slide.

And she’s so wet. So ready for him. Probably thinking about it all night. Laying in his bed, rolling in his sheets, surrounded by the smell of him, maybe playing with herself and imaging Jack between her legs. The very idea and fantasy of all those things sends Jack into overdrive. He wants to grab hold of hips and thrust himself to orgasm in this willing body. But he doesn’t move.

“Oh god Jack!” She puts her face against his temple and breathes hot against his skin. “Oh my god you feel so good.” The words roll out of her in that wonderful accent, passion filling her words in a way he’s never heard her speak before. And in that moment he realizes just how closed off she is all the time, how calculated all of her movements and words are. And he’s allowed to see her unleashed now, to see her undone; what a gift that is.

She’s not moving, and that’s fine with Jack. The tight, wet heat of her on top of him is almost too much even without movement. He’s glad for a moment to get his bearings so he can last for her and make her feel so good.

He runs his hands from her thighs, around to her ass, up her lower back (which makes her shiver oh so pleasantly) and to her shoulder blades, one hand going to her neck to hold her steady.

“Cage,” he says so softly he wonders if he’s spoken it aloud. “I-”

She huffs a beautiful, wonderful little laugh, and sits back enough to meet his eyes. “Jack, you’re inside of me, I think you’ve earned the right to call me by my first name.” And then her face gets serious. “Jack, please don’t call me Cage anymore.” There’s a story there, but it’s not the time for storytelling.

Her first name. He considers Sam, or Sammy, something sweet and cute. Instead he settles on her whole name. “Samantha,” he says, so softly.

She shivers at her name on his lips, and he can feel the vibrations at her core because he’s deep inside her.

“Samantha,” he says again, “I gotta know what you want sweetheart.” He tacks on the pet name, hoping she’ll laugh at it.

She sits back in his lap, and he shifts inside her in the most pleasant way. They moan together, their foreheads meeting. And then she sits back again, far enough to look into his eyes. “I just want you, Jack.”

“I wanna make sure that I know what you want and what you don’t want,” Jack says to clarify. “I want this to be so good for you Samantha.”

“Then just fuck me Jack,” she says, fire lighting up her eyes as she grips his skin tightly in her cool fingers. “Nothing’s too much, too hard, too fast. We’re on the same page. Can’t you feel it?”

“What if I want…” Jack’s always worried he’s too soft, too emotional, too weak. He’s been afraid to show that side to anyone. He’s always the protector, the big strong Delt.

Samantha’s hands move from where they’re gripping Jack’s shoulders, up to his face. She keeps him from looking away, makes him meet her eyes. “What do you want Jack? Tell me. Anything. I promise. Tell me.”

“What if I want to go slow?” Jack asks. “What if I want to make it last as long as we can? And I want to feel and taste every part of you?” Jack adds the last part to himself: in case this is the only night we get to have this.

Samantha seems to read his mind. “I’m not going anywhere Jack,” she says. “Not if you don’t want me to.” Her face softens again, emotions playing across he surface, and Jack thanks the universe again that he gets to see this, gets to see her open up. “But that sounds perfect.”

She rests her arms on Jack’s shoulders, one hand playing with the hair at the crown of his head. And then the muscles in her legs tense and she pushes herself up. The groan that comes out of her is pushed from her very core and echoes off the walls of Jack’s bedroom. It’s a needy whine that also somehow rings of satisfaction.

She’s so wet, but she’s tight, and her body squeezes him with her pleasure. Jack feels every inch as she slides upward so slowly he thinks she might kill him with the anticipation of her next slide downward. Jack’s hands move from her back to her hips and around to the front. He slides his fingers up her stomach to softly touch her breasts, rubbing gentle teasing circles around her nipples. 

It occurs to him for only a moment that his hands look apeish next to her wonderful skin. And then he looks closer and sees the scars her career has scattered across her body, and the one Murdoc put there. And he realizes again that they are the same: deadly, and strong, and damaged.

Before he can think too much more on it, she meets his eyes and sits back down slowly, her thighs shaking, but not with effort, with coiled excitement.

As she slides down, pushes him back deep inside, he sighs out a sound that is half sob and half moan. “Samantha,” he breathes out against her skin when she stops at the bottom. He licks a wet circle around one nipple, but before he can take it into his mouth she’s moving again and lifts up.

She slides up until he almost slips free of her body and then she slowly sits back into his lap. He takes her hips firmly in hand and keeps her there as toys with her nipple with the tip of his tongue. She throws her head back and groans, her curtain of long wavy golden hair tickling the tips of his fingers where they wrap around her hips to her back.

“Jack that feels-”

Before she can finish he sucks her into his mouth, using suction and his teeth to tease groans out of her. She shifts her hips in his lap, small circles that move him around inside her. She needs more. He doesn’t even need to hear the words, he can read her body so well already. He lets go of her nipple with a little nibble, and releases her hips at the same time.

The rhythm she takes up is faster than where they’d been, but still not fast enough for release anytime soon. It’s a tease, a gentle pull in the right direction that sends ripples of pleasure through Jack’s body.

“Oh god Samantha,” Jack says, hands tickling up her back again; gentle and tender. They are both dangerous and damaged, but they both need softness too. Jack knows that because he craves it, always. “Good lord, you’re so wet,” he says into her neck as she comes back down.

She stops again, sitting in his lap and tracing those painfully pleasurable circles with her hips. She noses at his temple and speaks softly into his ear. “I’ve been thinking about this all day Jack.” She lets out a hot breath, that shakes with need. “Laying here in your bed, thinking about you inside me. Your hands on my skin. The things you might do with your tongue.” She licks at his earlobe. “God, if I’m honest about it. I’ve been thinking about this since the day we met.”

Jack’s body isn’t listening to him anymore and plants his feet and thrusts upward into the body that’s already tight against him, getting just that tiny bit deeper.

Samantha clings to him tightly at the motion and groans into his ear. “You feel so good Jack. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Jack hasn’t wanted it for so long. Because the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew that she was too good for him. Too young, too smart, too badass for an old dog like him. But here they are, her body grinding down on his while she talks about how she’s wanted him from the beginning. Jack wants it to last forever, the slow build of pressure. He wants to make her come so many times she loses count. He wants everything for her. But he knows now that they have time. She came back for him. No one has ever done that.

“Jack?” She asks, concern in her voice. “Are you ok?” She takes his face in her hands and meets his eye. She uses her thumb to wipe a tear from his cheek that he didn’t even realize he’d shed.

Jack nods. “You…” He chokes up, but he can’t be afraid to hide anything from her. Not if he really does want what he wants. “You came back here just for me,” he says, as though he’s just realized it.

Her smile grows in the darkness and lights up her face, plumping her dangerous cheekbones. “Yeah, I did Jack.”

He thinks back to the things she’d said just before she dropped the sheet. About how Jack was the prize, not her. And man is she wrong, cause why can’t they both be each other’s prizes? But he doesn’t say that, because those words were a gift, and he’ll make her see she’s special too if she gives him the chance.

“And you’re…” He swallows hard. “You’re stickin’ around for a while?”

Her smile fades, face going solemn and serious. And it should be ridiculous to be having this conversation while they’re attached in the most intimate way, but somehow it’s right and makes it more honest. They can’t hide anything from each other right now.

“If you want me here I’m never leaving again Jack,” she says.

Her fingers are still cool, and he doesn’t know how that can be when the rest of her body is on fire. She moves her hands softly from his cheeks down to his neck and rests them on his shoulders. She puts her forehead to his.

“I’d really like that,” Jack says, “you not leavin’ again.”

“Me too,” she says as she grips his shoulders hard to brace herself and starts moving again.

They keep their foreheads pressed like that until her movements get too quick and wild for them to hold it. The pace builds fast now.

“Oh Samantha,” he groans out against her. “Just like that honey. Oh yeah, that’s right.”

She bounces in his lap, their sweating skin slapping together with each return.

“Jack!” She calls out, and his name sounds so good coming out of her mouth. “You feel so good Jack.” She’s getting loud now, her words forcing themselves out through her passion.

She’s getting close, Jack can feel it in the tensing of her muscles. And all he wants is to give her all the pleasure he can. He reaches down between her legs, fingers sliding through impossible wetness, until he finds the sensitive skin that will push her over the edge.

“Oh my god Jack!” She calls out when he finds it. “Right there Jack! Do that! Yes!”

Jack obeys, rolling his fingers around that sensitive skin and putting pressure there.

Samantha’s entire body stiffens. Her jaw tightens and she bites down on the scream that bounces around her mouth until she swallows it and opens her mouth to pant. She’s seated in his lap, her weight heavy on him as she collapses, sharp chin on his shoulder, arms loosely wrapped around him.

“Oh my god Jack,” she gasps, chin poking into his muscle, but he doesn’t care. “I can’t…” she shudders. “I feel like I’m on fire,” she breathes out as she runs her hands over his skin like she just can’t stop.

He pushes her up a little to see into her face.

Her hair has fallen between their sweaty bodies, sticking to their skin. Jack slips his hands to the back of her neck, pulling the curtain of wavy hair away. He loves her hair, but he needs to see her face.

Her bottom lip is shaking, her eyes closed.

“You with me Samantha?” He asks.

She’s breathing heavy and doesn’t answer, eyes still shut, little tremors still rippling through her body, hips twitching this way and that, keeping Jack right on edge.

“Samantha?” He asks again, making no move with his body to take anything from her.

Her eyes flutter open. “Yeah… I just… it’s a lot…” she breathes out. She leans down and kisses his lips. When she pulls back, he feels her thigh muscles tense, and she pushes herself up just a little. A broken sound shivers from her mouth and her eyes roll closed again.

“Samantha,” his voice is full of concern. If she’s hurting because of this, he’ll never forgive himself.

“I’m good Jack,” she says, though her wavering voice says different. Her eyes open and she looks determined. “I just… I’m still too sensitive. I just need a minute, yeah?”

“We’ve got all the time in the world darlin’,” he says. “And if you’re looking for something to pass the time I could definitely use more of that kissin’ we were up to earlier.”

Samantha smiles, and leans in, taking Jack’s lips in her own. They open slowly to each other, slick tongues making Jack think of other slick places and he needs to really concentrate on not letting his hips do any thrusting or moving at all.

And then, their mouths still joined, she starts to move again. Slowly at first, whimpering into his mouth, but she doesn’t stop. Before long their mouths are torn apart by the swift movement of their bodies against each other. Jack’s hands want to be everywhere, and touch everything. He slides his fingers through her hair, gripping just a little before moving down her neck to the soft skin of her back, to take a handful of her ass. He grips at hip, thigh, shoulder, caresses breast.

This time when she gets close he can tell because she gets wild; her hands claw at him, she shoves her face into his neck and breathes deep before biting almost too hard at his shoulder. She loses the rhythm, working herself frantically on him.

One of his hands finds the wetness between her legs again, and draws little circles with his fingers. Fingers that feel brutish in that soft, wet, sensitive place. But it works, and she arches against him, her body pushing back, but her arms reach out and pull her closer.

As soon as her body tightens, Jack lets go, and he’s coming with her.

She moves to slow and stop again, but Jack’s body craves more during his release.

He grabs her tightly, arms wrapping around her waist. “Come on baby,” Jack pleads. “Samantha, harder, please.” He hears the desperation in his voice. He doesn’t care. He’s laid bare to her.

He can feel her fighting her body, but she obliges, moving herself hard on him as she uses her trembling body to stroke him through his orgasm.

“Oh god! You’re so good!” He cries out into her scarred and beautiful skin. “Sweet mercy! Samantha! Yes, yes, yes!” Her name tastes so good he just wants to say it over and over and over again.

When he’s done, and his body is spent, she’s still moving hard against him, and his over sensitive skin can hardly take it. “That’s good Samantha,” he says softly. “I’m good. You can slow down honey. Thank you, thank you, good lord that was perfect.”

Her body stops immediately, and she sits back into his lap, exhausted. He’s still inside her. Still somehow magically hard because he just can’t get enough and he’s still so turned on.

He lays back. Arms still around her waist, he pulls her with him. It feels obscene when he comes free from her body, with a slick squeeze. 

She lays on top of him, still fighting for air, still straddling him, their legs dangling off the edge of the mattress together. He nuzzles at her throat, her jawline, her ear, her hollow cheek, and finally plants a kiss to her throat.

She pushes up on her elbow to look down at him and her hair hangs in their way. Jack combs it back, careful to be so gentle with his rough fingers, not wanting to snag any errant hairs and pull. He brushes the hair over her shoulder so it hangs down one side. She shivers as he draws the hair across the back of her neck.

“You cold?” He asks softy, tilting his head to the side and feeling suddenly very affectionate, his fingers trailing down the skin of her back.

“No,” she admits, almost shyly, “it just feels really good.”

“Is that right?” Jack smiles wide, he just can’t help it. He wants to make her feel good for the rest of time. And not just physically, he wants to make her laugh and smile. Wants to make her happy through and through.

Samantha smiles wide in return, teeth gleaming in the dark. “Yeah, that’s right.” She leans down and presses her lips to his. Laughter bubbles out of her and he drinks it up as he leans up to kiss her harder and sneak his tongue into her mouth.

But her giggles don’t subside and it becomes too hard to kiss her, becomes infectious even, and Jack starts to laugh too, and she rolls to the side. They lay tangled together, Jack’s arm over her stomach, and laugh themselves out until Jack’s stomach hurts.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, playfully biting at her shoulder.

She flops her head to look at him again, but that airy weightless hair of hers has gotten tangled in a net over her face. Jack sits up on an elbow and clears it all away before be drops a sweet kiss on her smiling lips and sits back again. He draws lines along her body, down between her breasts to her bellybutton and back in a curve around her Murdoc scar.

“I think I’m just…” she sighs, but it’s a content sigh. “So relieved.”

“Relieved?” Jack asks, taken aback. “About what?” His hand stills.

She’s still smiling, that has to be a good sign. “I was worried you were going to tell me that it was just me.”

Jack gets serious for a minute. “I gotta be honest,” he says, and quickly continues when she looks worried, “that until you told me how you felt, I just didn’t even think about it. You’re way outta my league girl.” Self consciously Jack lands a few kisses on her shoulder so he doesn’t have to meet her eye.

Samantha rolls toward him. She tips his chin up so they’re looking into each other’s eyes. “You’re so wrong Jack,” she says. “I’ll prove it to you.”

“How’re you gonna do that?” He asks, trying to sound suggestive and lewd. He smiles, but doesn’t really feel it.

Samantha smiles back, but it’s soft and genuine. “I’m going to stay,” she says.

Jack leans forward and kisses her again, rolling on top of her until she’s pressed into the mattress and they’re seriously on their way to round two.

“Jack,” Samantha gasps between kisses. “Jack, wait!”

Jack rolls off immediately, thinking maybe he leaned on her too hard.

“I really need a shower,” she confesses. “I am covered in sweat and I seem to be making a mess of your sheets.” She puts a hand to the bed between her legs to demonstrate and brings it up covered in sticky bodily fluids, which she proceeds to wipe on Jack’s chest.

“Oh come on now, that’s just…” He trails off.

“Looks like you need a shower now too,” she raises an eyebrow at him.

“Oh. Hey. Yeah. I could be on board for that,” he says, jumping up from the bed, grabbing her hand and pulling her with him.

In the bathroom he turns the shower on hot, but not too hot, not sure if she likes her skin scalded off the way that he does. 

When he turns around she’s there. But the lights are on now, and before he can even think about it, his brain is talking.

“God damn you’re beautiful,” he says in awe, leaning back against the counter.

Her skin is golden everywhere, and he wonders if she goes to nude beaches when she’s home in Australia. Her long hair is bleached by the sun and hangs in a wavy, airy curtain around her. Lithe muscle hides not far beneath the surface of her skin, wrapping her thin frame. She walks dangerously, like a jungle cat, and Jack’s seen a few of those in person. The way the muscles move under her skin, he knows she could be ready to fight in a second if she needed to be.

Across her tanned skin, the scars are bold slashes of white. The recovered gunshot wound Murdoc gave her is the biggest one, an awful gnarled gash in the middle of her stomach. The rest are just tiny mementos. And he knows that, like his own, she’ll remember where every one of them came from.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she says getting close, her feet padding softly on the tile floor. At the doubtful look on his face she forces herself between his legs so she can stand flush against him. “I’m serious Jack. First, I already told you that you’re the most caring, sensitive, loving man I know. Which is why I fell in love with you…”

Jack’s heart stops. She hadn’t used the word “love” earlier. And god he wants to gather her up in his arms and never let go, that such a woman could love him.

“And second, you know you’re handsome, don’t pretend,” she says. “You talk so big on ops all the time about seducing women. You’ve got to know that you’re easy on the eyes.” She draws a finger along his lips, and traces the lines around his eyes.

Her green eyes are so bright, framed by that beautiful face and hair like gold.

He kisses her again, and all he can think is: I ain’t never gettin’ tired’a this.

She rubs herself up against him, and his body responds. He’d already been at half mast, but now he’s up and running and fully ready to go again.

“Somebody’s excited,” she says, stepping back and taking him in hand. She pulls upward in one long, slow, tight stroke and then lets go, her mouth falling open as she does, as though she’s thinking of tasting him.

“Well I could say the same about you,” he says, sliding a hand from her stomach down to slip two fingers easily inside. He curls his fingers up once, hoping to stroke that sweet spot. He can tell from the look in her eyes that he’s succeeded. And then he slips his fingers free again.

She pushes him into the standing shower, and before they can even get near the steaming spray she’s pinned him against the far wall. Her kisses are violent, and he knows that this time around they won’t be so gentle and caring. This time will be animal and lusty and needy and hard and fast. And man he’s so ok with getting to have it both ways.

While her focus is on kissing him so hard their teeth clash, Jack takes the opportunity to turn her quickly and pin her to the wall. He holds her wrists against the cool, misty tile above her head. Her eyes widen briefly and he’s under no illusion that he’s actually holding her there. If she wanted to turn the tables, she easily could. But she’s giving in to him, her muscles relaxing into his hold.

Jack slides his hands down wrists and arms that are slender and seem delicate. He grips her biceps, and pulls her arms down until they’re resting on his shoulders.

“Hang on tight,” he growls against her lips before he kisses her hard again.

She listens and wraps her arms tightly around his neck while she moans into his mouth and presses her hips into his.

Jack slides his hands down her body, misty with steam from the shower that’s hissing only a foot away. He doesn’t stop at her breasts, but trails lower to her hips and then her thighs. He bends a little to reach down far enough before he grabs at the back of her thighs and picks her up.

He thought she would be lighter, but muscle weighs more than most people guess, and he misjudges a little and adjusts quickly. She wraps her legs tightly around his middle to hold herself in place.

“You ok?” He asks, as he presses closer, using his body to hold her tightly against the slippery wall.

“I’d be better if you were inside me already,” she smiles at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge before she tilts her hips against him, stroking him against her body.

Jack keeps one hand on her ass to hold her up, despite the legs she has gripping at his waist, and sneaks his other hand between her legs again, feeling the fantastic wetness there.

“Samantha,” he groans, pressing closer. Her body doesn’t resist, relaxing around him. “My god you’re still so wet.”

She pushes back a little with powerful thighs that Jack cannot fight, they’re like hard unrelenting stone. He moves back far enough that she can put a hand down to join his. He moves his fingers out of the way and watches as two fingers disappear inside herself.

“It’s not just mine,” she says, eyes dark and dangerous. “Some of this is yours.” She pulls the fingers out, so slick they’re almost dripping, and puts them into her mouth sucking hard to hollow her cheeks before opening her mouth to let them out and rolling her tongue around the tips of her fingers. “God we taste good together Jack.”

“Holy shit,” Jack growls before he pushes back in and kisses her hard, pressing her into the wall. He can taste it on her tongue: the sour sweetness that he could smell from her the moment his bed sheet had dropped away, mixed with a salty musky taste that must be his own though he’s never tasted it before. Their tongues trade that flavour back and forth, and before Jack knows what’s happening, she’s lined him up and slides back down onto him again.

The feeling is so intense that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He breaks away from that fantastic shared taste on her tongue and puts his forehead to the cool wet tile just over her shoulder.

“Samantha,” he groans into her ear. It sounds like he’s asking for something, but then he realizes that he’s in the position to take what he wants. Except that’s not Jack Dalton’s style. He wants permission. Sex has always been a two way street for him in every moment and every action.

“Oh god Jack, do it,” she says. Her hand slides up into his hair and grips tight, pulling back rough until he’s looking into her eyes. He sees the want there, but he wants to hear the words.

“Tell me,” he says.

“Come on Jack,” she challenges, “fuck me hard. I want it. I need you.” The dirty words from her mouth make his body tingle all over with arousal.

He backs off enough so she’ll be comfortable, with room to breathe. His hands hold under her thighs as tightly as he can in the misty shower stall. He bends his knees and gives in to his body.

The thrusts are sharp and hard and deep, and it feels so good he never wants to stop. They grunt and groan and their eyes never leave each other. In the wetness of the shower their skin slaps hard against each other, the sound echoing with the animal noises they make.

At some point she pushes off from the wall to slide him deeper, and lets go of noises long enough to say: “Harder Jack!” She digs her heels into his lower back, and he’ll bruise. But what does Jack Dalton care about bruises when he’s pleasuring a beautiful woman who… who loves him.

Jack obeys, and she comes soon after, her body arching away from him and pulling off, her sensitive body running on instinct to get away from too much stimulation. “Jack! Jack! Oh my god!” Those words roll off her tongue like beautiful music to Jack’s ears. She shudders in his arms, muscles tightening and releasing around him as she shakes, her body pressing little moans and grunts from her.

Suddenly, a year and a half of sexual tension breaks like a redwood under a lightning strike as her body trembles against him. Even though it’s the second time they’ve had sex, something about this raw, rough sex breaks down that barrier.

Jack moves to put her down. She’s too sensitive, and he doesn’t want to push her. But she grips tight at the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin, and the look of danger is back in her eyes. “I didn’t… say stop… Jack,” she says through laboured breaths. “God please don’t stop Jack.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, wanting but also worried. His thumbs rub gentle circles where his hands are still holding her tightly to keep her from falling.

“I want you Jack,” she says, laying bare her emotions. “So badly. Please.” The last word comes out with effort; she’s not used to begging.

She takes him in hand and pulls him toward her again and he lets her, sinking back into the soft, wet warmth and immediately thrusting fast and hard.

Jack comes silently not long after, his legs struggling to hold them both up as he chases pleasure and sensitivity deep into her body, pressing her hard against the wall.

He sets her down carefully, making sure neither of them slips in the steamy shower. She pulls him into the water, and sees to him first, washing his hair and his body, soaping up his cock and somehow magically he’s still half hard, which draws a raised eyebrow and a smile from her.

“Your fault,” he mumbles before kissing her in the shower spray and getting a nose full of water for his trouble. Still totally worth it.

Once he’s washed, she lathers up her own hair with the shampoo he’s got on hand, and lets Jack wash the rest of her body. He lingers at her nipples, making her squirm and squeak as he plays with the slippery, soapy, wet skin.

“God you are just so damn beautiful Samantha,” he says again, watching her wash the shampoo from her hair as trails of soap trace the lines of her body to circle the drain. “I really get to keep you?” He asks, with a joking smile.

“You really do,” she says, stepping out of the water and into his arms. “On one condition.”

“Name it,” he says, wrapping her up in a warm, wet hug.

“Grab me a towel?” She grins.

He plants a quick kiss on her hips before stepping out of the shower. “No problemo sweetheart.”

They crawl into bed shortly after, wrapping their arms around each other despite being sticky from the hot shower. Jack’s scruffy face is snuggled up under her chin.

“God Samantha,” he sighs against her skin, and she can hear the desire in his voice but knows they’re both too tired for any more. It’s been a long, wonderful, beautiful, perfect day. “I’m the luckiest man alive you know?”

“I know exactly how you feel,” she replies, and then smiles to herself, thinking about the way her body is still humming because of him. “Can I tell you a secret Jack?”

Jack kisses her collarbone softly before he moves back to look into her eyes. He brushes the hair from her face. “I want all your secrets Samantha,” he says with a grin, “but I’ll settle for takin’ ‘em piece by piece as you hand ‘em out.”

Suddenly she feels shy about it, when moments before she’d felt so bold.

“Come on honey,” he says softly. And she doesn’t hate the pet name the way she normally would. Something about the way he says it screams intimacy instead of condescension. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

She feels the heat creep up her face. “I’ve never…” She can’t seem to figure out exactly how to say it.

“Never…” Jack lets the word linger on his tongue. “Never been scuba diving?”

Sam smiles. “Of course I have. I lived by the ocean my whole life Jack.”

“Alright, alright. Never…” he squints his eyes to pretend he’s really thinking on it, his fingers rubbing softly at her back, their naked bodies pressed together. “Learned to use chopsticks?”

“I have very talented hands,” she says, tapping at the skin of his back.

“Oh I know that honey,” he says, planting a quick kiss on her lips. “Ok, I give up.”

The blush returns to her cheeks and intensifies. “I’ve never come more than once in a night before.” She wants to duck her face and hide from him, but because of the way they’re holding each other there’s nowhere to hide.

Jack pushes up on his elbow and searches her face, his eyes wide, trying to see if she’s telling the truth.

“You’re joking right?” He asks.

Sam laughs and it ripples through her body, rubbing them together in the best way; not necessarily sexy, but comforting. “Not joking,” she says.

“But you’re… that’s…” Jack’s struck dumb for a minute. “I’m gonna need a list of all the people you’ve slept with so I can hunt them down and give them a good slap upside the head.”

Sam laughs more, and Jack catches it, giggling a little.

“I definitely thought you were going to take that more as a compliment, than a call to arms,” she says.

“Well, and this ain’t meant as an insult or anything,” he says, “but it wasn’t really that hard to get you there. Just had to be payin’ attention and want you to.”

Sam wiggles against him. “Well, maybe you just turn me on that much Jack Dalton,” she says.

“Well alright, I can live with that,” he says, kissing her softly again. “Although if Jack Dalton’s turnin’ you on right now I’m afraid you’re gonna be disappointed.”

Sam smiles and pulls him in for another kiss, smiling against his lips. “I’m way too tired for that Jack. But you can make it up to me in the morning.”

“That’s a promise Samantha,” Jack says, collapsing next to her again, “and I always keep my promises.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Jack wake up together for the first time.
> 
> What does their relationship look like during the light of day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut.

Sam wakes up slowly, and not for one second does she forget where she is. How could she when she’s surrounded by the smell and feel of Jack Dalton? His big strong arms wrapped around her, the muscled thigh under her own, the soft in and out of his breathing that catches a little in the back of his throat like the beginnings of a snore, the wonderful tang of his sweat. She’s in heaven and she never wants to wake up. 

So she settles back into Jack again, so happy she thinks she might burst. She thinks back on all the time they’ve spent together; talking on ops when there was a spare moment, slowly giving away bits and pieces of themselves to each other; the way he always drinks his coffee when it’s still too hot, burning his tongue and hissing at the heat; how he orders pizza with extra green peppers; the difference between his laugh when he’s laughing at his own joke or someone else’s; the little scars littering his body. All these things she already knows about him, the little things that add up to a person. A beautiful person, inside and out. 

She grins against his skin, and laughter wants to bubble out of her, giddy with feeling. Instead, she swallows it down to avoid waking him, lays in his embrace and dozes in and out of sleep, happy just being next to him.

Eventually his breathing becomes more shallow, and his muscles flutter awake, stretching here and there against her. 

“Good mornin’ sunshine,” he says softly before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

In answer she leans up on her elbow and looks into his face. His warm brown eyes are still sleepy, and she traces the lines of his face with a fingertip.

The warm sunlight streaming in makes it feel real finally. The night before was like a dream, but seeing Jack in the light of day and watching the affection light up his eyes makes her fill almost too full with sentimentality and yearning.

“Jack, I…” Emotion chokes her words off.

Concern creases his face. “Hey Sam,” he soothes, “listen here now. Please don’t tell me you got any regrets about last night.” He sits up a little, shifting further from sleep and taking her face in his hands so he can meet her eyes square on.

Sam shakes her head. “No regrets,” she gets out, feeling the pure happiness prick at her eyes and make them misty.

Jack lets out a big sigh. “Lord girl, you had me worried.”

She crawls up the bed a little and peppers his lips with kisses. He’s still holding her cheeks in his big, warm hands and she wants to drown in him.

Jack opens his mouth and growls playfully at her, before rolling her over in the bed, and coming to settle on top of her. He kisses her gently, and she licks at his lips with her tongue, despite their morning breath. She sighs and opens up to him and their tongues trade lazy morning kisses.

She dares to hope she can have this forever. That nothing will ever tear them apart.

Jack moves his kisses from her lips to her cheek, down her jawline, and further down her body. He moves slowly, the languid movements of early morning. Lips on her collarbone, teasing and soft, then down to kiss her breastbone, and then her stomach. He sticks his tongue teasingly into her navel before he stops, wrapping his arms around her hips and laying down, head on her stomach.

It’s the strangest and most wonderful feeling, his soft buzzed hair tickling on one side, and his beard scruff scratching on the other. He moves his hand up and down her body, softly touching her skin everywhere. He traces her scars when he finds them, feeling them out by the touch of his gentle fingertips. And somehow he knows where to find them all. She knows she’ll tell him the story of every scar, slowly, in her own time. Not now. This isn’t about the pain and suffering of the past, it’s about the here and now. The two of them together.

His fingers stop after a while, and they lay like that, content in the warmth of the sunshine and each other. Sam runs her fingers through his short hair, toying with the longer bits of mohawk at the front. She’s always loved his mohawk. It should look silly, but instead he makes it badass. She feels Jack blink, eyelashes fluttering against her skin. It’s so intimate and perfect.

And yet she wants. Now that they are sharing everything: beds, bodies, hearts… she wants it all. Her need is insatiable. Her body craves him, wants the closeness, the oneness.

Jack seems to know what she’s feeling. The soft rumble of his Texas accent breaks the silence. “You know what I’ve been wantin’ since last night?” He asks as he sits up, scraping his scruff along her belly, and resting his chin on her stomach.

“What’s that?” She smiles down at him, her fingers still playing in his hair.

Jack sticks his tongue out and licks a wide, wet circle around her navel. “All I could think about last night was how bad I wanted to taste you.”

And just like that her body is on fire again, lit up from the inside with craving and desire. He must see it in her eyes, because his eyes grow wide for a second at her reaction.

He pushes himself up on all fours and crawls back up her body to kiss her more deeply before speaking against her lips. “If you’re up for it.”

“Oh god Jack, please,” she whines out, and curses herself for sounding so desperate, for being so desperate. But there’s nothing secret between them anymore, and she’s answered by equal desperation from Jack.

He sighs a groan out. “Oh thank the lord,” he says, “cause it’s all I can think about.” He looks into her eyes, and runs a thumb over her bottom lip before kissing back down her body again.

Sam arches off the bed toward his mouth with every kiss, pushing her body toward him. The anticipation will kill her, she’s sure. Just the thought of his tongue licking and teasing at her, makes her moan.

“I ain’t even started yet,” he says, genuinely surprised when he looks up from kissing her hip.

“You’re going to kill me Jack Dalton,” she replies.

He arches an eyebrow and smiles mischievously before he licks a long line from hip to thigh.

He holds her gaze as he pushes her thighs apart and settles on the bed between her legs. She plants her feet so his wide shoulders can fit under her thighs, and still he watches her. He runs his thumbs teasingly along the edge, spreading her open a little. She can already feel her body getting excited and slick. 

“Lay back and relax,” he says, “no need to be so tense.” He moves his hands away, sliding them up her stomach to massage at her muscles and help her to relax.

And she realizes that she’s holding tight to her anticipation, her entire body taut and ready for action.

“Gonna go nice and slow,” he says, hands moving comfortingly over her body. “Take my time.”

“Oh god Jack,” she sighs, letting her head fall back into the pillows and allowing her body give way to him at the same time. It feels like melting. “I can’t take it. Come on already.”

“Samantha,” his voice is so full of lust and wanting that it draws her gaze back to him. He draws a line with his lips just at the edge of where she wants him, breathing against the skin there. It makes her tingle all over. He sucks in a deep breath that sounds obscene because of his position. “You smell so good.”

He groans and bites lightly at her thigh, moving away from where she wants him to be. Her body bucks at the sensation of his teeth on her skin, but his strong hands push her back to the bed.

He meets her eye and doesn’t say another word, but moves forward and sinks his mouth over her, open and hot and wet with saliva. He doesn’t move his tongue at first, just breathes hot, wet air against her. It’s enough. She calls out into the air, her eyes rolling back in her head as a shock of pleasure rolls up through her body. It’s just the beginning, and she knows she going to fall apart before the morning is out. But Jack will put her back together again.

When he moves his tongue, and licks one long, wide path through her slick, sensitive skin, she fists the sheets around her and pushes her body onto his mouth. He lets her; she expects to be held down, but he lets her move as wildly as she needs to.

And that tongue. It’s wonderful. Firm and soft and wet and everything she has ever wanted. He knows exactly what she wants, she never needs to ask.

The first time he slips his tongue inside her, the world feels like its burning down around her. His soft tongue inside, scruff rough against her outside, it’s the perfect combination of sensations against delicate, sensitive skin. 

A flush spreads from her middle, up her chest and makes her feel hot all over. 

He flicks his tongue inside, and it builds a pleasure she’d never expected. And then he slips out, and he’s wet with saliva and her own slickness, and he trails the tip of his tongue up to the sensitive cluster of nerves that makes her grab one of the pillows so she can cover her face and scream into it.

And then he stops, and she pulls the pillow away to pant in fresh air.

“Samantha,” he says, and somehow knowing that his breath will smell and taste like her, she shudders at her name on his lips. “You. Taste. So. Good. Honey.” And without another word he slips his tongue back inside and she loses track of the time.

The pillow she’s gripping is wet with the breath of her screams, and he’s held her on the edge of climax for so long she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Every cell in her body feels charged with electricity and she just needs an outlet.

“Please. Jack!” She calls out, fisting one hand in the little of his hair she can get hold of.

Jack slows his attention again, and looks up. “Please what?” He asks, sly smile and raised eyebrow as he licks his lips.

“Please make me come,” she groans, “oh god please.”

“Anything for you Samantha,” he says softly, and it’s not just full of lust, but caring and devotion.

He licks inside of her once more, more vigorously, teasing over and over at the spot inside her that builds such wonderful pressure. And then he slips his tongue out and clamps his mouth down around her, suction and pressure and his tongue all working together to break her apart.

The pillow tumbles from the bed, forgotten as she arches her back and forces herself down onto his mouth which is still sucking hard at her skin.

“I’m coming!” She screams. “Oh my god! Jack!” Words leave her and it’s all moaning and sounds that rise from deep in her throat to fill the room. She grabs his hair with both hands, gripping tightly and earns a growl from him in return that vibrates against her and makes her buck harder.

And then he does something she doesn’t expect; he slips his tongue back inside her and lets out a pleasured moan when he tastes her again. And it’s just about the most intimate thing she can imagine, that he would want to taste her while she’s climaxing. That he would enjoy it so much.

She squirms away, her body over sensitized. And though she wants Jack to be touching her forever, the sensations are so sharp it almost hurts.

Jack understands immediately and pulls back, crawling up her body to lay next to her. He lays an arm softly over her stomach, and kisses at her shoulder.

“My god Jack,” Sam exhales into the air. “That was… you’re amazing.”

He nuzzles at her cheek and kisses there softly, and she can smell herself on his breath: tangy and intense. “You taste so good Samantha,” he says, “better than I’d imagined.”

It makes her tingle all over that he thinks so. That he’d been thinking about it.

“Yeah?” She asks, turning toward him. She kisses him, and pushes her tongue into his mouth. Her tastebuds are lit up with the flavour of herself and it’s intoxicating and not terrible.

Jack shifts and rolls on top of her, pressing her into the mattress in the best possible way. She feels like she’s being consumed by him, his mouth on hers, his air in her body. He presses back, his chest heaving as he gets his breath back, her scent mingling between them. He’s hard against her, but he’s waiting; she sees the restraint in his eyes. From their night before, he knows that she gets too sensitive after orgasm, and he’s being so respectful of it. The consideration warms her through.

She brings her fingers up to trace the wonderful lines on his face. One of her fingers gets too close to his mouth and he sucks it in. His hips are moving against her now, unconsciously chasing the orgasm he wants so badly.

“I’m ready when you are,” she says, shimmying her hips.

A look of concern flickers in his eyes, and he doesn’t move to take what he wants. “I just got one little thing to ask you before we…” He lets the end of the sentence hang in the air and she resists the urge to end it for him.

“What’s that?”

“Last night… we didn’t use any… protection,” he’s being very careful with his words. “I just think maybe that’s something we should talk about?” And then he fumbles forward, the words rushing out of him. “I’m real sorry Sam, I just didn’t think. I was so damn excited and-”

“Jack. Jack,” she stops him finally, “it’s ok. I kinda jumped you. So that one’s on me. I’m on birth control, and I recently had my physical, so I’m good. And I’ve seen your file, I know you’re good too.”

Jack’s not stupid, and it clicks into place right away. “My recent file?” He asks, offering her the opportunity to explain. He rolls to the side again, to make it easier to talk, and she faces him, throwing a leg over his hip.

“Yeah, about that…” She tosses him an apologetic look. “I’m sorta back with the CIA. I took a job with them, so I could stay here in LA if things worked out. Which is why I needed the physical. I may have used my clearance to check your file.” It’s her turn to barge ahead. “See, I wanted to make sure that there wasn’t anything personal going on with you. I didn’t really think it would be fair to barge in on you if you had a current relationship. And now that I’m saying this out loud it sounds a little creepy.”

Jack combs his fingers through her hair. “Naw, it’s not creepy,” he says, “that’s about the sweetest thing anybody’s ever done for me.”

Of course her and Jack would start a relationship this way. And they would both find it romantic. The thought warms her through.

And then Jack’s eyes mist up, and he lets out a shaky breath. “So you really…” he clears his throat. “You really are stayin’ then. Got plans for work and everything.”

“Of course,” she says softly, smiling wide and letting her emotions out of the little box she keeps them in for the world outside. “I’m here to stay Jack Dalton, better get used to me.”

“I got somethin’ I need to say,” he says, “and I want to say it now. I don’t want to say it in the middle of sex, or after. Cause I don’t want you to think that’s why I’m sayin’ it.”

Butterflies fill Sam’s stomach and she feels like a school girl again.

“I love you Samantha,” he says. And she’s so grateful he didn’t use her full name, because it’s not really her name. A secret she plans to share with him, but not while they’re rolling in bed together. “You said it last night, and I think I was just so shocked and happy that I… my brain wasn’t workin’ right. And I should’a said it last night and I’m sorry but-”

“I love you too Jack,” she says, recalling her casual “I love you” of the night before. She’d almost choked on it as it had left her mouth, but it had been too late to take it back.

Jack kisses her soft and romantic and she can feel every emotion welling behind it. It’s in the way his lips are tentative but his tongue is insistent. The hard press of his palms on her body, but the gentle caress of each finger. It’s desperation and tenderness and want and need all rolled together into everything.

Sam lays on her back and pulls Jack with her. He settles between her legs, and pulls away from the kisses to meet her eye.

“You good?” He asks softly, as he presses against her, eager to be inside her again.

“So good,” she says.

He pushes inside and they just look into each other’s eyes. They don’t kiss, they just touch and feel and know each other. Each thrust of Jack’s hips, each slide of his skin inside of her, is beautiful and emotional and everything she’s ever been missing in her life.

The warm morning light spilling through the room lights him up in the most wonderful way. It accents the silver hair in his scruff and at his temples, and fills his eyes with warmth. He moves over her, slowly rolling his hips to push in and out of her, and it’s the perfect moment. The shadows play in the lines of his body, each muscle changing shape in the light as his whole body tenses and relaxes with each movement. His strength is laid bare in his body, his emotions shining in his eyes.

He tries to move slow, but she can feel the restraint in his muscles. He’s holding himself back.

She grabs hold of his tight forearms. “Let go Jack,” she nods. “It’s ok. Just let go.”

A broken noise chokes out of him and she feels the muscles release as his body moves faster. It’s not the rough sex of the night before, instead it’s passionate, their eyes still locked as Jack groans loudly with each rock of their bodies together.

Neither of them say another word; no dirty talk, no encouragement, no romantic words. They just breathe each other in, and look deep into each other while they move together, groans coming and going.

The slow start gradually leads to Jack’s harder and faster thrusts, bring her to climax again. And when she lets out a little squeaked moan and her body writhes under him, Jack comes too.

And just like that they’re one and they’re wrapped up in each other and nothing else in the world exists. Sam knows she is the best version of herself, and that Jack Dalton has made her that way, and she lets him keep remaking her from moment to moment with each touch and sensation and word and look. And Sam is happy for the first time in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. I lied... a LITTLE.
> 
> It's not totally done.
> 
> But the last chapter is more of a bonus chapter. The end of Chapter 5 is where I had INTENDED it to end... but I'm tacking on a little bonus that I'm still working on.
> 
> SO REALLY... it is done... I'm just... cooking up something extra for you.
> 
> So don't feel deceived! It's coming, I promise!


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